She didn’t believe the girls who’d tried to tell her Longy was a gangster, that he’d killed people. That was malicious gossip. He was a businessman, a very successful businessman. And so polite. Always asking about her family. She enjoyed riding in his baby blue Cadillac convertible, looking up at the stars over Miami Beach.
“Has he given you jewelry yet?” Cleo, another stewardess, asked.
“No, why would he give me jewelry?” Gaby said. “I’m not his girlfriend.”
“Then what are you?”
Gaby wasn’t sure how to respond, so she just shrugged.
“Honey, you might as well get something out of it,” Cleo said. “Ask him to take you shopping.”
Later, Gaby realized that Cleo thought she was sleeping with Longy. What a revolting thought! Or was it? She was no fool—she noticed the way he looked at her. And hadn’t he once asked if she could find him attractive? She began to imagine a romantic weekend in Havana. He was always flying to Cuba on business. Maybe next time he was on her flight, next time she went to dinner with him in Miami.
But Mr. Zwillman wasn’t on her flight list tonight.
In the departure lounge, where music was piped in, “I’ll See You in My Dreams” was playing. Gaby had seen the movie twice, once in Miami, and once in New York at Radio City Music Hall. She’d written her mother about the plush red seats, the stage show, the Rockettes, to prove how glamorous her life was compared to what it would have been if she’d stayed in Dayton. Her mother wrote back, Just be careful. That was her mother’s standard response to everything. Be careful of what? she wanted to ask, but she never did. She already knew the answer. Be careful of life.
Christina
Christina and Jack went to the early Valentine’s Day party at Twin City Roller Rink. All the girls wore something red and the boys were given red bow ties to clip onto their collars. Christina’s friend Gina told her she looked sexy in her clingy red jersey top when they went to the ladies’ room to freshen their lipstick and comb their hair. “God, I wish I had your boobs.”
Christina blushed but she knew it was true. She felt sexy tonight. She’d never worn anything red, let alone anything that clung to her body.
Later, when she and Jack were in his room, on his bed, kissing, she knew this would be the night. Not that she’d planned it. She just didn’t try to stop it this time. On the bedside radio Tony Bennett was singing “Because of You.” The volume was turned down so as not to disturb Mrs. O’Malley or the boarders. Between Tony Bennett’s sexy voice, and Jack’s warm breath as he nibbled her earlobe, she was lost in another world. Somewhere a cat was purring, which struck her as odd because Jack didn’t have a cat, but who cared? Who cared about anything?
He unbuttoned her blouse, not for the first time, reached around and unhooked her bra, something she’d let him do before, even though she knew what that could lead to, she knew very well. He groaned when her breasts spilled out of her full B cups. I dreamed I was bewitching in my Maidenform bra. Moonlight streamed through the window. His hands were warm as he gently stroked her breasts, his fingers passing over her nipples, pausing just long enough to make them hard, then his breath was on them, as he kissed one, then the other. He pulled off his shirt so he could feel them against his naked chest. She closed her eyes, giving in to the rush between her legs. When he reached under her skirt, he hesitated for a second. She wasn’t wearing a panty girdle tonight, just a garter belt, stockings and nylon undies. This was where she always stopped him, whispering, No Jack, we can’t. But she didn’t stop him tonight. If he was surprised she couldn’t tell. Her undies slipped off, then he was getting out of his trousers.
She kept her eyes closed. He was naked next to her and she was naked, though she didn’t remember stepping out of her skirt or pulling down her half-slip—what did it matter…sweet Jesus, nobody told her it would feel this good to have his hands stroking her there. Someone else was singing now and the cat was purring louder, the cat was moaning, or wait—was it her? Yes, those sounds were coming from her. She felt something pushing against her, then slipping inside her. And she wanted it, she wanted it. Then a short, quick pain—did she cry out? Maybe, but she didn’t say stop. She didn’t say no. Her body tensed…what if, what if…But soon he stopped moving and let out one deep groan, and something warm was on her belly. Warm, like a dollop of thick sauce. He wiped it up with his underwear then kissed the spot where it landed as if it were sacred ground.
Natalie
Natalie lay against the pillows in her bed at Elizabeth General Hospital. Nurse Kirkegaard, who her parents had hired as her private duty night nurse, watched over her. Natalie was supposed to be sleeping but she never slept, not if she could help it. She was weak and tired but sleep was out of the question. She had a needle in her arm attached to a tube. “Just fluids to keep you hydrated,” Nurse Kirkegaard explained.
“I want to go home,” Natalie said.
“I know,” Nurse K said, “and you will, as soon as you’re able to eat, as soon as you’re strong enough.”
“I’m very strong,” Natalie told her. “I can dance for hours without getting tired.”
“Oh, you’re a dancer?”
“Yes.”
“My daughter is an actress. Maybe you’ve heard of her? Phyllis Kirk.”
“Your daughter is Phyllis Kirk?” Now the nurse had Natalie’s full attention. Phyllis Kirk was famous. The magazines were always running stories about her. Everyone knew she was from Elizabeth, had gone to Battin High. Everyone knew her mother was a nurse at Elizabeth General but Natalie never dreamed this nurse, who was middle-aged and stout and not beautiful, could possibly be her mother.
“She changed her name from Kirkegaard to Kirk,” the nurse explained. “It’s a stage name.”
“I’m going to have a stage name, too.”
“Natalie is a lovely name,” Nurse K said. “Look at Natalie Wood.”
“Yes, but I don’t want people to confuse me with her. I was thinking of Ruby.”
“Like Ruby Keeler, the tap dancer?”
“No, like Ruby Granik.”
“The girl who was killed in the plane crash?”
“You know about her?” Natalie was surprised. She would never have expected Nurse Kirkegaard to know anything about Ruby.
“My daughter met her a few times.”
“Really? Ruby knew Phyllis Kirk? She never mentioned that.”
“You knew Ruby?” Nurse K asked.
“Yes.”
“A tragedy.”
“Yes.” Natalie looked out the window at the night sky and thought about changing her name to Ruby Night. Ruby Skye. Ruby Starr. But she wasn’t sure Ruby would want her to use her name. She yawned.
“How about a bedtime snack?” Nurse K asked. “I could make you a strawberry milk shake.”
“I’d just throw it up,” Natalie said. “It’s better when I don’t eat because I really don’t like throwing up. I wish they’d figure out what’s wrong with me so I can go home.”
“Tomorrow you’ll have some tests.”
“I’m so cold,” Natalie said. “I’m cold all the time.”
Nurse K pulled another blanket over her, to stop her shivering. “Am I going to die?”
“You’re going to get well.” Nurse K smoothed Natalie’s hair, which had been falling out. Natalie had collected it and stuffed it into an envelope. You could see patches of her pink scalp.
“Did you know Phyllis had polio when she was a girl?” Nurse K asked.
“What? No.”
“But she overcame it and so will you.”
“You think I have polio?”
“No,” Nurse K said. “I’m just saying that if Phyllis could get better, you can, too. And I’ll let you in on a secret. Phyllis is up for a leading role in a very big picture opposite Vincent Price. It’s going to be the first 3-D movie.”
“What’s 3-D?” It sounded like a bra size.
“I’m not sure myself but it’s a very big deal. You have to promise to keep this to yourself.”
“I promise,” Natalie said. “I have a secret, too, but I can’t tell you.”
“You might feel better if you did.”
“No.” Natalie looked out the window again. “I tried telling my best friend but she didn’t believe me. Either that or she thought I was crazy.”
“Well, I’d believe you. Keeping secrets locked up inside isn’t healthy. It can make you sick.”
“You think that’s why I’m sick?”
Nurse K took her hand. “Close your eyes and I’ll sing you the same lullaby I used to sing to Phyllis when she was scared and couldn’t sleep.”
“But I don’t want to sleep. If I do I might never wake up.”
Gaby
Gaby welcomed her passengers aboard the first of two sections of the flight to Miami, due to leave at midnight. The second was scheduled for departure forty-three minutes later.
The passengers’ names were on a seating chart, making it easy for Gaby to greet each one by name once they were seated. Mr. Venturini and Mr. Griffiths, friends headed to Fort Lauderdale for a week of fishing, asked if they could change seats. They wanted to sit together up front but had to settle for two in the same row at the rear of the plane. At least they didn’t make a fuss about it. A priest, Father Good, sat at the emergency exit. He looked young and strong. He could handle it if he had to. Gaby wondered if he’d become a priest because of his name.